


August

by notgrungybitchin



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: Angst, Introspection, Lower East Side, M/M, Melancholy, Memories, Missing Scene, Near Death Experiences, New York, OTP: soulmates in crime, Season/Series 04, Vignette, White Horse Pike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notgrungybitchin/pseuds/notgrungybitchin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of crisis, memories distract Meyer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	August

They searched a few more trucks, but Eli had seen all he needed, and he sent the rum on to Atlantic City. But they kept the heroin. And they kept Meyer. He sat on the running board with the feds hovering over him, and waited while Eli went to call Nucky.

Meyer tried to plan out what he could say – explanations, a bargain, anything that could get him out of this. Nothing stuck, and he leaned back against the car door and inhaled deeply.

The sensation of the metal on the back of his neck and the curve of the wheels in the corner of his eyes were familiar, and he recalled an evening years ago, sitting in the same spot, on the side of another truck. Their truck? That’s how he remembered it, though Benny had probably stolen it.

They were in the garage. Charlie sat next to him. And the doors were open to the street for some relief from the heat.

August? Yes, he was certain. It must have been August ‘18. The heat had been oppressive, the sidewalks burned and the grime of the Lower East Side seemed to have formed into a thick, humid layer that coated clothing and skin and hair. 

They had had enough of it and couldn’t be bothered to do anything. So Meyer and Charlie sat together and drank cold cream soda from the grocers up the street. Cool droplets formed on the glass bottles, and they held them to their foreheads between gulps.

The late evening sunshine was turning the buildings outside into purple-lined silhouettes.  This time of year, when the daylight drew on, there was no keeping the kids indoors--even with the heat. They could hear groups of them laughing and shouting on the street, saw some of them running past the garage. Others must have been about too, but Meyer only remembered the kids.

They didn’t say anything, just sat in silence while the sun went down. Meyer had mulled over whether he should go home that night or stay out again. He and Charlie had made the unspoken agreement that work was done for the day, but he didn’t want to leave just yet. Maybe they should try out a picture? He brought up the new Mabel Normand comedy, and Charlie had laughed, because it was so unlike Meyer. Charlie was always the one to suggest pictures. But they had gone anyway, and they liked it alright.

Meyer didn’t know why his memory of that evening overtook him. He was angry with himself for getting distracted, because he had no plan in place when Eli returned.

Later, after they drove to meet Mr. Thompson, he understood. Because they gave him a shovel and told him to dig. And he knew what it was for.

Charlie would have been there too, but things had gone wrong. And Meyer was somehow thankful for it. Charlie was safe, and Meyer had that memory to carry him through. Was it the summer of ’19? No. He was sure it was ’18.


End file.
